


Memories

by oliverthelongfurby



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliverthelongfurby/pseuds/oliverthelongfurby
Summary: The thoughts and recollections of Basira Hussain, regarding her partner Alice “Daisy” Tonner before and after the change. Statement never given.
Relationships: Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Major spoilers for season five of the magnus archives!!

The thoughts and recollections of Basira Hussain, regarding her partner Alice “Daisy” Tonner before and after the change. Statement never given.   
Statement begins.

Basira opened her eyes from her uneasy sleep. She wasn’t even sure if she was asleep, honestly. She knew she didn’t really need sleep. She’d gone… immeasurable amounts of time without “sleeping” in this new world.  
But it was a small comfort. A break from the harsh world, even if her nightmares were usually only more hellish. Filled with the screams of her family, the terror of everyone trapped in this wretched place, and her friends.  
Basira missed them. Even if after the change, her memories of them were foggy at best. She remembered Jon, how could she forget the man, clear enough, and vaguely remembered Tim, who she was almost certain died… some time ago, Martin, Melaine, even Georgie, and of course, Elias. She hated Elias with all her being. Basira wanted to rip Elias apart and watch as he bled out. She was almost sure he was part of all this.  
There was another person, of course. Someone who she remembered crystal clear and who she was almost certain was the reason she wasn’t part of all the horror around her. Daisy.  
Basira had made a promise. A promise she was regretting, but a promise nonetheless. She’d promised to kill Daisy if the Hunt got her again. Track her down and end her life.  
Which she was trying to do. She’d been tracking Daisy for what felt like a while, but who was to be sure? If things were normal, it could have been two hours, could have been ten years.  
Basira was lying in the hollow corpse of a tree. It smelled horrible, but it was quiet. Quiet as things could be after the change, anyway. You could still hear the moans of pain from the nearest fear domain, which she believed to one of the Slaughter.  
Basira stood up, reaching for the gun at her belt, making sure nobody had touched it. Of course they hadn’t. The Hunt was the only domain that could harm her at this point, and all of the Hunters she’d encountered had made their presence known far before actually hurting her. It was part of the appeal of the game, Basira supposed.  
She let her mind wander sometimes. It hurt to dwell on what she needed to do, on what, to be honest with herself, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she was going to do, so it helped to think of happier times. Of holiday parties, of nights out, especially Daisy.  
She thought of Daisy, then. The first time they had met, there was no way she even would have guessed any of this would have ever happened.  
Basira sometimes wondered why her memories involving Daisy were unharmed, even though she was fairly certain she knew exactly why.  
It had been a cold, bitter day. She’d just been sectioned. She’d seen Daisy before, but asking others about her simply led to grunts about Section Thirty-ones. Basically, Basira has been told to not interact with Daisy, lest she be sectioned as well.   
Anyway, Basira had been sitting in the cafeteria, reading a book as she ate her lunch, when a five foot nothing person walked over to her. Basira was pretty tall, standing at 5’10. The person dropped their lunch on the table, a pathetic looking tuna sandwich.   
Basira remembered being pretty confused, looking up at the other person, who simply sat down and started eating.  
They said nothing until they both left to continue their respective duties.  
Basira had just shrugged it off, thinking the person just had picked a random table to eat on that day. Until it happened again.  
They continued their pattern for a week. Basira would be sitting at her usual table, reading, and the other person would walk over about halfway through lunch, eat whatever pathetic looking meal they had, and leave.  
It was on the tenth day of this that the person finally spoke to Basira.  
“So you just got Sectioned, huh?”  
Basira looked up from her book, but said nothing.  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” The other person said.  
“Yeah,” Basira responded, stunned.  
Basira remembered looking into the other person’s eyes, sharp and hard and glinting with something powerful. She’d met plenty of people trying to seem tougher than they actually were on the force, but something in this near-stranger let her know she needed to know her place.  
Basira wasn’t scared, though. Not really. More fascinated how this person had so much confidence.  
“Well, welcome to the club. I’m Daisy Tonner.” The other person- Daisy, stuck out her hand, and Basira shook it.  
“Basira Hussain.”  
Daisy nodded, and continued eating.  
And so they sat together for two months after that, occasionally making small talk. Then Basira’s partner “disappeared” in… circumstances… and she was reassigned to work with Daisy.  
It was awkward at first. Daisy was headstrong, constantly picking fights, while Basira preferred to try and talk to everyone before making assumptions, but eventually they found a balance.   
Their relationship was still strictly work related, though, even thought they’d occasionally get breakfast after night shifts.  
Then, in the summer a couple years before the change, Basira and her mom were driving on a dark road.  
Basira remembered the night near-perfectly. She’d taken her mom to go clothes shopping, a sixtieth birthday present, and then they drove to the restaurant she’d picked out to meet Basira’s brothers, sister, and Dad. It was a small middle-eastern restaurant, in which Basira’s mom always complained the food wasn’t nearly as good as it had been back home, but it was still better than most of the other places the city offered.  
Basira had been driving, her mom having never been taught how to drive, when a cat ran out in the road. Basira slammed on the breaks, spooked, but everything seemed fine.  
They were on a small mountain road, a little town on the left side, a steep cliff on the right. The cat had come from the town, and Basira remembered her mom being annoyed that someone would let their cat out at night.  
So many things that could kill them! Who is stupid enough to do that?   
Basira remembered laughing, saying it was probably a stray, when a car hit them dead-on.  
It hit them from the back, sending them over the cliff. Basira’s mom screamed, but Basira was too shocked to say anything. She remembered gripping the wheel as tight as she could and just… praying.  
They landed in a tree. A fucking tree. It held them over what Basira remembered to be a river far below as the car teetered precariously. They were flipped upside down, and Basira’s head hit the roof of their car hard.  
Basira was frozen in fear as her mom screamed.  
Basira took a deep breath after a few seconds. “Mom!”  
Basira’s mom looked at her, shaking in terror.   
“I need you to roll down your window.” Basira felt her voice shake, but she needed to get her mom out of the car. She could feel gravity pulling it down, and she knew there was no way they would survive the crash.  
Her mom reached for the window and rolled it down. Basira remembered her mom’s arm being covered in a bloody gash, and almost throwing up.  
“Okay mom. I need you to unbuckle your seatbelt.” Basira’s hands trembled and she held onto the wheel of the car, using the pressure to keep her grounded.  
Her mom did it, letting out a small yell as she dropped down the roof of the car.   
“I need you to climb out of the car.”  
“Basira, what about you?”  
Basira looked down, or up, at her leg. She felt pain pulsing through it, knowing there was no way it wasn’t broken, even if she couldn’t quite make out the form of it under the sticky blood in the dark.  
“Mom, I need you to climb out. Phone an ambulance when you get out.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll get out together.”  
“Mom!” Basira’s voice trembled. “I need you to climb out! Then you can come for me.”  
“Basira, I-”  
Her mom never finished her sentence, because it was at that moment the car fell.  
She couldn’t remember that well. She remembered crying in fear as her car filled with water, and her mom being still and not waking up.  
Baira had just about accepted her fate when someone pulled her from the water. Then she passed out.  
She woke up a couple hours later at a hospital. Her leg was in a cast and a nurse stood over her.  
The nurse said that the person that hit them had phoned an ambulance, and they’d found them just in time. The nurse said her injuries weren’t as severe and they could have been, a broken leg that would probably take a couple months to heal, and a gash on her back from the impact, a minor concussion, as well as cuts all over her body.  
“What about my mom?” Basira remembered faintly being aware of the fact that while she had been unconscious her hijab had been switched out for a simple cap, probably to give her stitches for the wound she had later learned was on her forehead.  
“Pardon?” The nurse asked. He looked at her with a mix of pity and confusion.  
“The woman that was in the car with me. My mom. Asisha Hussain. We were going to her birthday dinner.”  
The nurse bit his lip, and Basira knew what was coming.  
“Your mom has been… unresponsive. She’s alive, but…”  
“No! No!” Basira remembered screaming, thrashing around in her hospital cot as the nurse tried to comfort her.   
“Please Miss Hussain! I need you to stay still!”  
Basira didn’t care, and only stopped when a jolt of pain shot through her leg. Tears streamed down her face.  
“I’m sorry. Deep breaths.” The nurse shh’d her as she cried.  
The rest of the night was a blur. The doctor came in, talking about recovery time and other stuff she couldn’t really remember. At around 5 am, Basira asked to call someone to pick her up.  
The doctor agreed and handed her her phone, which had a completely cracked screen, but it was a miracle it survived the crash at all. Basira scrolled through her contacts, calling her family, her friends, ect. None of them answered the phone, probably still asleep. Apparently her father had been delivered the news, and had elected to not visit her at the hospital. Basira always thought her father blamed her for what happened.  
Finally, she chose to call Daisy, knowing she’d probably be awake.  
Basira was right, and Daisy picked on the phone on the third ring.  
“Basira?” Her voice was confused.  
“My mom-” Basira barely choked out that word before she started to cry. Big, heaving sobs.  
“Where are you right now?” Daisy asked.  
Basira told Daisy what hospital she was at. It was about 120 miles out of the town she knew Daisy lived in.  
“Do you need to be picked up?”  
“Yeah- I- smashed up my leg pretty badly. And no one else is answering the phone and I-” Basira started crying again.  
“Okay, calm down. I’ll be there in an hour.”  
“Thanks.”  
Daisy was there in forty minutes, which should have been impossible without breaking a lot of speeding laws. However, Basira, filled with pain meds and in a pretty delicate emotional state, did not care enough to press the issue.  
Daisy drove her back slower, still breaking many speeding laws, but in two hours she was back in their town.   
“Would you like me to take you back home?”  
Basira blushed. She hadn’t thought of that.   
“I- need someone to. Stay with me. I’m pretty much immobile for the next three months.” Basira had a wheelchair, but her fourth floor apartment filled with stuff from her job and passion projects she’d invested herself in was not the most friendly for her.  
“I’ll take you back to my place, then. Is that okay?” Daisy looked at Basira without pity, just the same sharpness as always.  
Basira nodded, thankful that she wouldn’t be left alone.  
And so Daisy brought Basira back to her apartment. She awkwardly helped Basira change into clean clothes, and brought her to the bed. Basira barely had time to thank her before the fatigue hit her like a truck and she passed out.  
When Basira woke up, Daisy was gone. There was a note on the nightstand that she had to go to work, but there was soup in the microwave for her. Basira navigated her way to the kitchen, took some of her medicine, ate the soup, and went back to sleep.  
When Daisy got home, she woke up Basira, told her she needed to at least listen to a book on tape for a couple of hours so that she’d be able to sleep at night.  
“What? Are you speaking from experience?” Basira said, though her face was so swollen at that point the words were barely legible.  
Daisy shrugged, then nodded. The sharpness was gone, replaced by sadness.  
“Oh… Daisy- I-”  
Daisy shook her head and sat down at the corner of the bed. The message was clear. That was not the time.  
“Here’s your phone. Some of your friends texted you. Might want to text them back.”  
“I can’t look at screens. Can you read them?”   
Daisy nodded and read the messages, and Basira told her what to respond.   
Daisy shifted uncomfortably. “The doctor said your mom is comatose.”  
Basira felt like she was going to throw up. “Okay.”  
“Your family visited her today.”  
“Okay.”  
“They told the doctor to tell you not to speak to them.”  
“Okay.”  
“I’m really sorry, Basira.”  
“Don’t be. It’s my fault.” Basira said it so matter-of-factly.   
“How so?” Daisy asked.   
“I told her to- unbuckle her seatbelt. So she did. And then we fell.” Basira’s voice shook.  
“Basira it’s- it’s not your fault.”  
“It is though, isn’t it? I should have climbed out first. Then I’d be the one dying.”  
“Your leg was broken. You had no way of knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get out before the car fell.”  
“I should have known.”  
“There’s no point in dwelling on the past. No one expects this stuff to happen to them, you hear me? You couldn’t have prepared.”  
Basira’s shoulders shook and she was crying again. Daisy hugged her gently.  
It continued like that for a month. Basira spent all day sleeping, ate two or three times a day, and when Daisy got home they’d talk and listen to audiobooks. Daisy drove her to doctor’s appointments, and after two months, Daisy started bringing her to the park and restaurants. Small outings that kept Basira from going insane.  
She didn’t visit her mother. She tried, once. Her sister was there, looked up at her, and left. Then Basira left as well, and cried on Daisy’s shoulder in the parking lot.  
And Daisy supported her through all of it. When Basira was in so much pain she could barely move, when Basira needed to be driven to physical therapy, when Basira needed to be brought to the doctor’s, when in the winter after the accident, Basira got a call her mother had been declared brain dead. When Basira needed someone to lean on at the funeral.  
When Basira called her siblings and said how sorry she was, and they hung up.   
After Basira was healed, she didn’t want to go back to her apartment. She didn’t want to be alone again, especially since she’d been waking up most nights with nightmares.   
So Daisy let her stay. It was nice.  
After that, Daisy always had her back. And she always had Daisy’s back.   
Basira remembered one morning after working all night, Daisy had driven her to a breakfast restaurant. It had been small, run by a family but the food was great.   
It had been sweet. Even sweeter when Daisy admitted it was a date.  
Her blush was adorable, Basira remembered, and she’d said so, which made Daisy blush more.   
“I like you, too.” Basira admitted.  
“Star-struck from the first moment you saw me?” Daisy teased.  
“Something like that, actually.” Basira grinned, which made Daisy blush again.  
She remembered when they’d come to The Magnus Institute, how fiercely protective Daisy had been of Basira. Basira doubted Daisy could have actually done anything if Elias put it in his mind to dispose of her like he’d done with Getrude, but it made her feel a little safer.  
Even if she was just the hostage, she found her work on The Magnus Institute to be much more productive than her work on the police force. Plus, she got to read much more.  
It wasn’t like that for Daisy though. There were so many nights when Daisy crawled into bed and she could feel Daisy’s back against her, shaking from tears.  
Sometimes they could pretend things were okay, though. They could watch movies together, go on dates, cuddle, and everything would feel okay.  
Basira remembered nights spent leaning on one another, cooking, watching shit tv, and sometimes just being together.  
There were bad parts, of course. Parts that Basira had ignored, told herself she was helping Daisy. She guessed that was kind of true, in a way, but she regretted it now.  
The fact that Daisy took a little too much joy in the chase. The fact that Daisy used a little too much force to take people she saw as enemies down.  
The fact that one time, Daisy shot someone running away from a house where they were doing a drug bust, and upon realising he was still alive, kicked him in the head so hard his skull cracked.  
Then they came to The Magnus Institute, and Daisy almost killed John, and would have killed John, before Basira intervened. That was the first time she realised what a… monster Daisy was. She broke up with Daisy that night. Burying Mike Crew’s body, treating the cut on John’s neck that, according to the tape, Daisy took joy in making with a dull knife, it was too much.   
“I understand,” Daisy said. “I can move to the guest bedroom if you want, or I’ll find another apartment.”  
“No- you can stay. I’ll move to the guest bedroom. It was your place first.”  
Daisy nodded, and that was that.  
It was awkward, but they were still friends, Basira supposed.   
Then the unknowing happened, and Basira was alone. Martin and Melaine had pulled away, John was in a coma, just like her mother had been, and she’d attended Tim and Daisy’s funerals.   
Basira had pulled away from her other friends when she started to work at The Magnus Institute, telling herself it was for her safety, but knowing in her heart that she didn’t want to hurt more people if she died. Which was likely.   
So she just ended up wandering a lot. Walking around the apartment, around the institute, ect. With Elias gone, they didn't have much real work, and Basira was so, so tired. There were some nights she broke down crying, staring at Daisy’s room. She never cleaned out that room.  
She was falling behind on rent, so she needed to find a roommate, but whenever she went in there to go through the stuff, she’d see a picture of her and Daisy, or smell Daisy’s shampoo, and would just start sobbing. She eventually just started going in there twice a month to get rid of dust, but mostly ignoring the room.  
On hard days, she allowed herself to look at photos of her and Daisy, of happier times.  
She tried to talk to Martin a couple of times, invite him out for drinks, but he’d always have something to do. It sucked.  
Basira asked Melaine, once, if she wanted to go on a walk with her. Melaine just gave a long, drawn out sigh, and walked out of the room. Probably the best choice. Basira always thought she should have tried to get Daisy and herself to use the same escape route that Melaine did.  
Basira visited Daisy’s grave a lot. She’d talk to it like Daisy could hear her, which was stupid, because according to the authorties, Daisy’s body had been never recovered. But she did it anyway. She’d call Daisy an idiot, tell her to go fuck herself, and sometimes would say that she missed her. She started leaving flowers there. Daisy’s favorite color had been yellow, so she tried to leave yellow flowers at least once a week.  
She’d visit Tim’s grave as well and also tell him to go fuck himself. Her memories of that were more foggy, but she was pretty sure she would occasionally leave tiny dog figurines. Tim had liked dogs, Basira was fairly sure.  
She only visited John a couple times, and would usually just sit there in silence, hating him.  
Daisy never really talked about her family, but someone who claimed to be Daisy’s mother came to the funeral. She asked what Basira had been to Daisy. Basira walked away, not knowing how to respond.  
Then John woke up, and Basira had to deal with his and Martin’s drama. It was exhausting. At least she got to start working again. It gave her the illusion of productivity, even though she knew she was barely accomplishing anything.  
Anything she could find in reports, John could just know.  
At least, that’s what Basira thought happened. She was pretty sure, but whenever she tried to think about it too hard, it felt like her memories were slipping away like sand.  
It was more like she was standing on a giant water balloon, actually. She could feel the water, the memories, just below the surface, but if she tried to pop the surface of the balloon, she’d be overwhelmed by the water.  
So she didn't. She did remember, crystal clear, when two delivery men calling themselves… something… dropped off a coffin and said Daisy was inside. Basira remembered trying to stay calm when she first heard it, but going home and crying herself to sleep in Daisy’s bed.   
She’d thought Daisy, at least, had been free from all this, the suffering, rage, and the constant waiting, waiting for something bad to happen, but no. Daisy was just trapped in her own hell, unlocking a new level of suffering. And every happy moment Basira spent, which to be honest, weren’t many, Daisy was suffering.  
And it was her fault. Just like her mom’s death. Basira should have stayed with Daisy, but no. She ran, and now Daisy was trapped and Basira was free but not really free and-  
Basira shook her head. It didn’t help to dwell on things from before. The best she could do was keep going, even if it was just trudging through more memories instead of dwelling on the same ones.  
Basira remembered coming back to Daisy. She remembered that clear as day, even if she didn’t quite remember why she wasn’t there when Daisy came back.   
She remembered thinking she was imagining it at first, wanting to punch John for some reason, and then tentatively touching Daisy on the arm to make sure she was real. She remembered crying, and Daisy crying, and hugging Daisy and reminding herself Daisy was real.  
The memories for the next few weeks were hazy, well, they were clear compared to other memories, but hazy for Daisy memories. She remembered how they’d gone back to their apartment and Daisy cleared her throat and asked to stay with Basira in her room again.   
“I don’t- I can’t be alone. It’s horrible.” Daisy gave a short, humorless laugh. “I keep feeling the walls pressing in on me again and-”   
Basira remembered being shocked that Daisy would be so quick to admit she needed help. Then again, she supposed they’d all changed.   
“Y-yeah. Of course.”  
Basira remembered that a few days after, Daisy sat her down on the couch and cleared her throat. She did that a lot after the coffin, like she was sorry for talking. “I’m not going back to the Hunt.”  
“What?” Basira stood up halfway, and then sat back down, knowing she needed to let Daisy say her piece.   
“In the coffin, I had a lot of time to think. I want to be better, Basira. I want to not hurt people anymore.”  
“Can you even survive at this point? Without the Hunt?”  
“I don’t know.”  
There was silence. Then Basira stood up and hugged Daisy. It was a tight hug, filled with months of pain and anger.  
“I’m glad you get the chance to try. I’m glad I didn’t lose you before you got the chance.”  
Daisy trembled, and Basira could feel her start to cry. They stayed like that for a while, leaning on each other, barely able to move.  
It was a month after that they started dating again. It was nice. A little domestic fluff in a harsh world.  
Of course, that didn’t mean the harsh parts weren’t there. Basira saw Daisy becoming smaller, weaker. Basira knew being away from the Hunt was killing Daisy. But Daisy had drawn a line, and Basira didn’t try to push it. She didn’t want to lose Daisy again.  
There was one night when Basira saw Daisy leaving the apartment, long after dark. Basira was suspicious, and despite the fact she was trying to trust Daisy, she followed her. She found Daisy lying in the woods, and although none of them talked about it after, she had somehow known Daisy was waiting for death.  
She tried to talk to Martin about it, once. Daisy was listening to John read statements, and Basira needed someone who wasn’t John’s input.  
“I need your help.” Basira had grabbed the door so he couldn’t leave his office without looking at her.  
“What?” Martin looked up from the pages he was holding  
“With Daisy.”  
“Can’t you talk with Melaine?”  
“Are you kidding me? She doesn’t even want to be near us anymore. Worried we’ll magically restore her sight, or something.”  
“Fine. What specifically do you need help with?”  
“Daisy she’s… getting weaker. I don’t know how to help her.”  
“Then don’t.”  
“How can you say that? After everything with John?”  
Martin tensed, then laughed. “I don’t have time for this.” He pushed past her and kept walking.  
Probably for the best, Basira supposed. It wasn’t like Martin had ever been good at showing his true feelings about anything.  
Then everything with Not-Sasha happened and… Basira had known it was borrowed time. Of course she did. She’d been a fool to try and convince herself otherwise. But to hear Daisy say it? That was horrible. A confirmation of her worst fears. Maybe that’s why she was not in one of these hellscapes. Her worst fear was losing Daisy again.  
But that thing wasn’t really Daisy, was it? Not the Daisy she fell in love with.   
There had been a moment, after the change. When she thought she might be able to get her Daisy back. She’d been following her, and finally found her. But something had found Basira.  
As Basira crouched behind a dumpster, clutching her gun, relaying her promise to Daisy over and over again, something pounced on her.  
It was a hunter, their eyes slitted like a cat’s and green. Their body was covered in scars, and their teeth were canine. Their fingers closed around Basira’s throat, letting out what sounded like a laugh, when suddenly the pressure was thrown off.  
Daisy was fighting this other hunter, snarling and biting, tearing them apart the same way they’d been trying to do to Basira.  
Basira watched as the other hunter turned back into a… human. Trevor, an echo in Basira’s mind muttered. Julia’s friend.  
He looked from Daisy to Basira, stared at his hands, and gaped in horror. He put up his arms to try and shield himself from Daisy, then ran.  
And Daisy… let him run.  
It was strange, looking back, but Basira never felt afraid. She never felt like maybe Daisy would see the gun in her pocket and decide she was too dangerous and try to take her out. It was cruel fascination.   
Daisy walked over to Basira and growled. She was decidedly unscarred, except for the flower-like scar on her back. Basira had never known how Daisy had gotten it. She’d asked once, and the subject was quickly changed. Her limbs were far too long, and her eyes were cruel. Her teeth were almost human, but too sharp. Her clothes were ripped, and her ears were pointed, almost like an elf’s.   
The two stared at each other. Daisy walked closer. Basira did not move.   
Basira had a thought then that she should fulfill her promise, shoot Daisy before she could hurt anyone else. What would even happen to Basira if she did that?  
But she didn’t. She just kept staring into the wild eyes of Daisy. And slowly they became almost… human.   
Daisy reached out with her too-long arm and gently touched Basira on the shoulder.  
“Daisy?” Basira whispered.  
Daisy whimpered and flinched. She shook her head, and her eyes became animal again. She growled and ran away.  
That’s when all the emotion hit. Basira crumbled to the ground, and cried. It was fair, she supposed. A punishment for the monster and the person who had been a bystander. Didn’t mean she had to like it.  
After a while, she had stood up, and continued tracking Daisy. She’d accepted Daisy was gone, and there was no way she was coming back.  
Basira shook her head, trying not to lead the emotion tug at her heart again. The Daisy that had taken care of Basira, and then the Daisy that Basira had taken care of, was gone. She may have survived the change, but she was as good as dead.  
Walking over a hill, Daisy saw a human body ripped apart piece by piece. Daisy’s trademark. Basira had noticed that all hunters had one. Smelling the blood, she knew it was fresh.  
Basira gripped her gun. Daisy wouldn’t be far from then.

Statement ends.

**Author's Note:**

> ah- i have no idea how to work ao3. i hope this suffices? I like writing tma fanfiction, i might write more. I love these two so much, and i just want basira to get a happy ending haha.  
> (does this count as heavy angst? light angst? angst and fluff? I do not know and I am but a confused nonbinary.)


End file.
